Take Me By The Tongue
by trespresh
Summary: Stiles goes over to the Hale house with every intention of standing up to Derek. Too bad he ends up kneeling in front of him, instead. Shameless slash - don't like, don't read. Rated for a reason.


**Hello! This is my first time posting for Teen Wolf. This is not betaed, so any mistakes are my own and I apologize! Hope ya like.**

**Minor spoilers for 'Magic Bullet'.**

**Disclaimer: Stiles and Derek Hale belong to Jeff Davis, I suppose. Title belongs to Maroon 5. I own nothing but these dirty thoughts.**

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><p>Things hadn't turned out the way Stiles had planned, to put it lightly.<p>

He had pulled up to the dilapidated shell of the Hale house, mumbling to his steering wheel, preparing his attack.

_Stop appearing out of nowhere all the time, Derek._

_Stop bleeding on everything I own, Derek._

_Stop bossing me around just because you can, Derek._

Stiles imagined himself being vicious. He would show the werewolf how fucking _sick_ he was of being treated like shit. Human or not, he was trying to help, to be included. Derek's stupid glare and threats of homicide were getting old, and Stiles almost had himself convinced that he didn't believe Derek would actually kill him.

The way Stiles saw it, Derek owed him a big fat 'thank you'. The manic wolf had practically thrown a saw at him, and Stiles even got far enough as to position the blade at the skin of his bicep. Sure, he hadn't actually ended up cutting off the limb (thank God for Scott McCall), but he'd (almost) been prepared to. Yeah. He'd played a big part in saving the dying man's life.

_Yeah._

Stiles had psyched himself up. He could do this, no sweat. He could stand up to a werewolf with a short fuse and a taste for bloodshed. No big deal.

He imagined himself spitting Derek's name like poison. Not swallowing Derek's cum like second nature.

Things definitely hadn't turned out the way he'd planned.

Somewhere along the line, Stiles had ended up on his knees, one of Derek's hands firmly on his shoulder and the other carding across his buzzed head. Everything Stiles had planned to say had apparently remained in his jeep, and all he could think was, _what the actual fuck? _Even if he had wanted to tilt his head up to see the older man's feral smirk, he wouldn't have been able to. Because Derek _knew._ He knew that Stiles wanted this; he knew well before Stiles did, even.

Fucking wolves.

Sometime between Derek slowly unzipping his own jeans and pulling himself out of his boxers, Stiles' focus became a little fuzzy. Not until his throat was full and he breathed heavily through his nose did he chance a glance upward.

And wasn't proximity a wonderful thing?

Stiles decided he _liked_ having the man tower over him. He liked it a lot. He played idly with the idea in his head, the idea of being taken, and wondered how badly the werewolf's strength might hurt him. He sat back on his knees, sucking back up Derek's length while removing his hands from the man's sharp hips to lace his fingers behind his back. Stiles stopped moving altogether, his lips still wrapped around Derek, and gave a muted, frustrated whine. He looked up, trying to convey exactly what he wanted, but how do you tell someone you want to choke on their cock without actually _saying_ it?

Derek stared down at him, intense gaze unblinking. He breathed harshly through his nose once, twice, before wetting his lips with his tongue. He moved the hand from the smaller boy's shoulder up to cup around his cheek, thumb slipping around into the stretched mouth to rest on Stiles' teeth. Derek coaxed that hot mouth open just that little bit wider with a quiet demand of, "Come on."

Stiles felt a little ridiculous and his jaw was beginning to ache, but then Derek was wrapping his hand around the back of his neck to hold him still. His mind went blank as the wolf surged forward once, experimentally. He held Stiles tightly, reveling in the feel of the tip of his cock against the back of the smaller man's throat and the thick choking sound that fell from the Stiles' abused lips. The lacrosse player jerked, sitting higher on his knees and clenching his fists behind his back. Finally, and much too soon, Derek yanked the boy off of him, marveling at the thin strand of saliva connecting his cock to Stiles' red lips. He watched almost impatiently as the younger man heaved a huge breath, coughed once, and swallowed.

And then Stiles looked up with pleading eyes. _Why aren't you fucking my mouth right now?_

The wolf almost managed an acquiescing smirk before thrusting in again and again, groaning while Stiles lapped quickly at the underside of his cock in a pitiful attempt to keep up. One of the older man's hands had moved to surround his jaw, thumb pressed against Stiles' lower lip, while the other hand rested lightly on his throat to feel the vibration of every moan and needy whine. Derek made sure to punctuate every few snaps of his hips with a tantalizingly slow roll, groaning when the younger man's eyes crossed ever so slightly in obvious pleasure.

What a wonderful little cockslut Stiles was. And Derek had wasted all this time trying to _ignore_ him?

The familiar warmth began to coil at the bottom of Derek's stomach and his grip on Stiles' neck tightened minutely. He managed a low growl of warning and his eyes flashed bright blue as the boy reared back off his cock. Stiles immediately brought a hand up to grip the base of the werewolf's length, dropped his jaw wide again, and rested the tip on his tongue. He turned his eyes up to meet Derek's half-lidded gaze, the latter's mouth opened slightly as he drew in sharp gasps. Stiles wasted no time in stroking hard and fast, releasing a quiet moan like a fucking _porn star_ that he'd probably be embarrassed about tomorrow, and Derek couldn't take it anymore. He seized up, painting Stiles' tongue and lips with pearly strands while the boy continued to fist his cock smoothly.

Derek panted with exertion while Stiles curled his tongue in, swallowing the admittedly bitter liquid. He made sure to meet the werewolf's eyes with a heated look as he licked his lips pointedly, lapping up all he could reach. The taller of the two collapsed back against the wall. Stiles chuckled. And licked his own teeth.

"That was—" his own startlingly hoarse voice stopped him. He cleared his throat and ignored Derek's self-approving smirk in favor of trying again. "That was…thorough."

Derek simply barked a laugh and rested his head against the wall behind him.

Things definitely didn't turn out the way Stiles had planned. But maybe, he figured, he'd just tell Derek how much of an asshole he was… next time.


End file.
